


Forced

by thecatsmeow87



Series: From the Perspective of Kylo Ren [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Dark vs. Light, Definitely shipping this, Force wars, Gen, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Interrogation, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Mental Non-con, Psychological Torture, Rey is Force-sensitive, mind probe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 07:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecatsmeow87/pseuds/thecatsmeow87
Summary: Kylo Ren interrogates Rey, who realizes the strength of her powers as the Force awakens within her.





	Forced

**A/N:** A short first chapter, but a powerful one. Kylo Ren is about to figure out this isn't about the droid anymore (duh).

 **A/N: Read **"Resistance"** before this! It's like, one paragraph, I promise.**

I own nothing from Star Wars.

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The winds beat furiously over the snow-covered peaks of Starkiller Base, Tie Fighters piercing the white sky like black birds of prey. Inside the massive fortress of ice and steel, Kylo Ren knelt silently in a small room, alone but for his prisoner. Even Hux had not dared approach him as he thundered through the corridors, carrying the girl to an interrogation chamber; a private place where he could observe, with peculiar interest, his acquisition. Ren could have woken her, could have forced her to mind and body to life, but her pale throat rose slightly with each breath, and he found this movement oddly mesmerizing. Her appearance as a whole bore many clues to the struggles of her past: the ends of her tunic were frayed and threadbare; her hair was tied back without ceremony; her skin was lightly freckled from years spent beneath a scorching sun. In the forests of Takodana, Ren had glimpsed briefly, through her mind, a more thorough portrait of her homeworld—an empty place filled with vast, gleaming dunes of sand and clawing hunger. Although her frame might be small, she was clearly resilient, because no one survived such a hostile environment through fortune alone. But oppression had made her skittish. Ren knew this instinctively, and crouched low so as not to startle her when she woke.    

When she did, suddenly, she did not see him at first in the darkness of the room. It took a moment for the girl to realize that she had been restrained, her arms and legs tightly bound, a dull ache still pressing behind her eyes from the mind probe hours before. As her vision swam sickly, then cleared, she became aware of the figure kneeling before her. 

 “Where am I?” Her voice was demanding. Fearful.

“You’re my guest,” Ren replied chillingly, but with a thread of truth. She was, rather uncommonly, protected under his guard, unaware of what horrific death she would otherwise face at the hands of the First Order’s interrogators.

“Where are the others?”

At this, Ren almost rolled his eyes. How pathetically typical that her first concern was for the Resistance. “You mean the murders, traitors, and thieves you call friends?” he asked. “You’ll be relieved to hear I have no idea.” He felt her hatred emanate against him. “You still want to kill me,” he observed, tilting his head, but this time there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

This seemed to irritate her greatly. “That happens when you’re being hunted by a creature in a mask,” she snarled back at him. It was...a challenge. Given pause by her boldness, Ren considered her. He had thought her fragile; perhaps she was not, after all.

Still kneeling, he contemplated this accusation. He could sense the repressed curiosity that pricked behind her mind, to see who—or what—lay beneath the cold veil of the black metal. She dared him to reveal himself, to face her as he was, not through the false guise of his appearance. _Coward,_ he heard through her mind, and he was surprised that it angered him.

The girl's face betrayed disbelief as she watched Ren's gloved hand slowly move to unclasp the latch on his helmet, releasing it with a metallic hiss. As he calmly lifted off his mask, dark locks tumbled down to frame his angular face, features intense with dispassion. With a sharp sound, Ren placed his helmet into a reservoir of silvery ashes, a fitting resting place for such a specter, and a thin plume of powder lifted into the air. His dark eyes, brooding and guarded, fell over his prisoner, challenging her back. _This_ she had not forseen, and her glance faltered, clearly shaken and visibly confused. She had imagined a cruel, horrifying face, but Ren's features, though young, were surprisingly unremarkable.

His patience, however, was not.

“Tell me about the droid.” His voice was cold, devoid of emotion.

She narrowed her eyes, a habit of impertinence he found intriguing. “He’s a BB-unit with a selenium drive and a thermal hyperscan vindicator— 

Ren interrupted, displeased. “He’s carrying a section of a navigational chart. We have the rest, recovered from the archives of the Empire. We need the last piece. And somehow, you convinced the droid to show it to you. You—” he paused, his voice a blistering mix of amazement and scorn; “—a _scavenger_.”

These words had an immediate effect, and despite the clear disadvantage of her position, the girl bristled with shame and resentment. Her eyes brimmed suddenly with tears of disdain—whether at her own weakness, or in hatred of captor, Ren could not tell—but he saw in this defiance that she would not share the information he sought, not readily. It was no surprise.

As he moved closer, she recoiled, courage faltering. “I know you’ve seen the map,” Ren snapped. “It’s what I need. At the moment, it’s _all_ I need.” He was close now, barely a step away, nearly level with her. Her skin was so pale, her eyes so full of fire and fear. Despite his impatience, Ren felt a sting of discontent, a pull of hesitation at what was to come. He didn’t _wish_ to damage her, this…girl. And yet, she was so terribly, monumentally important to the success of his mission. A mission that he _would not fail_.

Ren’s voice was soft, almost regretful. “You know I can take whatever I want.”

“Then," she whispered, steeling herself, "...you don’t need me to tell you anything." Her eyes betrayed the bravery in her words.

Sighing, Ren knelt down, placing a gloved hand close to her temple. “Despite what you may think, this gives me no pleasure.” He paused, hesitant. “The more you resist, the more… _discomfort_ …you will feel.”

She looked away, and he had a sudden, disorienting feeling that he was betraying her.

Brushing this misgiving aside, Ren began to press into her, slowly and carefully, penetrating her consciousness with calculated deliberation. The intricacies of the mind were complex, cryptic; it was a winding labyrinth where thoughts, memories, names, and faces wove together in an abstract tapestry, shifting and intertwining in ceaseless movement, layer upon layer. But beyond the surface, there was a place that bound more closely to the soul; where secrets were concealed through careful intent, locked away and hidden. Ren followed one such filament, probing with curiosity and determination. This thing he sought first, however, was not the map.

It was a name. 

_Rey._

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**3/15/18: update coming soon, I promise!**


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